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The Big Ticket

Always...Patsy Cline
She's crazy for feeling so blue. Thursday, Aug. 28 thru Sept. 13. Clarence Brown Theatre. $21-$35.

Speaking in Tongues
Psychological intrigue with an Australian accent. Friday, Aug. 28 thru Sept. 13. Black Box Theatre, 8 p.m. $5 on Thurs., $8 students/seniors, $12 regular Fri. & Sat.

The High Score with Mic Harrison & special guests
Local rock just the way you like it. Friday, Aug. 29. Manhattan's, 10 p.m. $3.

Chin Chin
Dance the night away with Gypsy Hands dancers. Saturday, Aug. 30. Pilot Light, 9pm. $5.

Boomsday
Fireworks, fried food and prime people-watching. Monday, Sept. 1. All day events, fireworks after dark. Volunteer Landing and the Riverfront. Free.

Guster with Kill Hannah
Fun-loving Bostion trio meets "the cutest band in Chicago." Sundown in the City, 6-10pm. Donations requested.

The Features
In my dream about the Features, I'm whisked back in time to a hybrid decade of subconscious concoction. The keyboards set the scene: it's the '60s, no, the early '80s. We're hanging out with David Bowie, Elvis Costello and Duran Duran. You're wearing a tie-dyed skinny tie, and I hope no one notices the anachronistic fashion faux pas. The musicians are jumping around the room, exuberant and kind of angry, slamming on guitars and drums. It looks like chaos but sounds tight, witty, melodic. Groovy. And then, without benefit of a cab or train, we're all be at a club with The Features playing on stage. The crowd is glistening, glittery, dancing like brand new go-go boots. We scarf up the tunes like three-minute snacks, hungry for more. You scream unintelligible observations at me over the fast and ever-shifting rhythms. It sounds like, "La, la, la," but I know you're really saying, "This music is, like, the best ever." Hell, yeah. My dreaming mind fixes on one idea: rock is happy, rock is good. And then I wake up. It's too early yet, but my resolution is strong enough to make a mental list: Go to work. Go see The Features. Get there in time to catch The Rockwells, Knoxville's own Brit-pop-inspired rockers. We'll dance and scream like it's 1964 or 1984. (Paige M. Travis)
THE FEATURES W/ THE ROCKWELLS * WEDNESDAY, SEPT. 3, 9 P.M. * BLUE CATS * $7/$5 W/ COLLEGE ID.

Fifth Annual Camp Reggae
Publicists and bands often pester newspapers for a little bit of ink promoting their shows. It can make a fellow jaded. Marla Allen, vocalist and keyboardist for the Natti Love Joys, certainly knows how to be persistent. But it's hard to get too cynical about her frequent phone calls. You can tell she's simply eager to spread the good word about reggae music and her ritual of closing conversations with "one love" is endearing. If you're looking for a cheap late summer get-away, this might be the ticket. Unlike many big summer festivals, this one will probably be fairly low-key, with plenty of opportunity to slip away for some hiking or rafting. It's located on a private farm called Sassafras Ridge near Cleveland and the Ocoee River. You can bring your own food, but it will also be sold there. If hippies make you nauseous, you should of course stay away and leave the good vibes to those who can handle them. Headliners are the Natti Love Joys, the Jamaican band transplanted to Atlanta. Other acts include the Congos, Rudie, Deal's Gone Bad, Milele Roots, Mystic Vibrations, Shaggie Williams, McCarldie, Selah, and many more. (Joe Tarr)
FIFTH ANNUAL CAMP REGGAE * FRIDAY, AUG. 29, THROUGH SUNDAY, AUG. 31 * SASSAFRAS RIDGE, TENN. * REGGAE FESTIVAL WITH NATTI LOVE JOYS AND MANY OTHER GROUPS * $50 ADULT WEEKEND PASS, $35 WITH STUDENT ID, FREE FOR CHILDREN 12 AND UNDER * SEE WWW.CAMPREGGAE.COM FOR DIRECTIONS AND MORE DETAILS

Boomsday
Americans love to blow shit up. We may not have much heart anymore for self-sacrifice or coming together for a common good or tackling complicated social problems, but we've got blowing shit up down to an art and science. I'm not even talking about war making, which I'm not going to comment on (and certainly, we're not the only ones who love that sick sport). Simply compare American movies with those of any other country and you'll see what I mean. While most Americans unleash their demonic urge to blow shit up on the 4th of July, for Knoxvillians, that's merely a tepid warmup. No, we save the grand blowing-shit-up show for Labor Day. It's supposed to be a celebration of the poor working stiff, but we put it to better use blowing shit up. (Every working joe—and that includes me—loves an explosion!) We shut down a bridge for a couple of days and congregate all around the riverside and downtown in eager anticipation. Oh, sure, we snarf down some barbecue or hotdogs and listen to some fine music, but everybody knows it's just a prelude to the real event: a gloriously loud spasmodic display of fireworks that sends a cloud of noxious smoke drifting for miles. The whole thing probably doesn't even last 15 minutes. I have been accused more than once of being a pansy-ass bleeding-heart tofu-eating tree-hugging liberal, but I'll tell you what—blowing shit up is damn fun. (Joe Tarr)
BOOMSDAY * MONDAY, SEPT. 1, 4 P.M. (FIREWORKS AT 9:30 P.M.) * VOLUNTEER LANDING * FREE